


All The Gin Joints

by malfoys_minx



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Friends to Lovers, Internalized Homophobia, Kissing, M/M, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, POV Bucky Barnes, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:02:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25172827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malfoys_minx/pseuds/malfoys_minx
Summary: Bucky has been in love with Steve since they were kids. He can't have him, never could and never will, but there's only so much a lonely heart can take and ultimately he finds himself seeking his comfort in the arms of strangers.Admittedly he doesn't really mean for it to happen, at least not the first time, but before long he's regularly propping up the bar while a seemingly endless parade of men, who don't look quite enough like Steve, ply him with drinks in exchange for his attentions. And sure, it may not be the life he once dreamed of, but who knows? Maybe one day the man sidling up next to him with a leer and an open wallet will be the man he's been waiting for. The one who'll smile at him just so and make him forget all about his stupid crush on his stupidly straight best friend... Well, no one ever said he had to stop dreaming.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 4
Kudos: 123





	All The Gin Joints

**Author's Note:**

> This is rated T. _T!_ I really didn't think I had it in me. I swear every plot bunny that hops in my direction has been rolling about in filth first, but somehow this one stayed fairly subtle. I'm not sure if I'm proud or ashamed of that. 
> 
> Also, for clarity: Bucky goes home with an OC at the start of this, but there isn't so much as an on-screen kiss between them. All other OCs he hooks up with are only mentioned in passing in the most abstract sense.

"Who is he?" 

Bucky's head jerked up at the sound of the voice a little too close for comfort, reluctantly glancing over at the man who'd sidled up beside his bar stool. He was easy enough on the eyes, but he looked painfully young, probably still shy of 25. Still, he was tall and muscular, his hair bleached a little too blond, perhaps, but if Bucky got drunk enough, the kid might even look a bit like Steve. 

"Who's who?" He asked after a beat. 

"The guy that broke your heart?" 

"I don't know what you're talking about." He looked away, raising his glass to his mouth and taking a long swig of beer, hoping the other man would just leave him alone. 

"Don't tell me there isn't a guy. No one sits at a bar looking like that without a story." 

"He didn't break my heart." Bucky wasn't sure why he was still talking to the kid, but it wasn't like there was anyone else he could confide in about his decades long crush on Steve. 

"Well he must've done something to leave you looking like that. Won't leave his wife?" 

"No! He's..." He took another long drink. "He's not married. He's single, far as I know and he's my friend, he'd have told me if there was someone special." At least, he hoped Steve would have confided in him. Sometimes these days he wasn't so sure. "But he's... not like me." 

"Ouch." The man cringed, signalling the bartender with one hand as he dropped the other one onto Bucky's shoulder in what was obviously meant to be a comforting manner. "That's rough." 

"Yeah." He agreed with feeling. "It really fucking is." 

"Only one thing for it." The man told him, placing a shot of clear liquid in front of him. 

"You got that right." Bucky picked up the glass and clinked it against the man's own. "To unrequited love." 

They both knocked back their shots, before clunking the empty glasses down on the bar in an odd sort of unison. 

"Love?" The man pressed, even as he gestured to the bartender again. 

"I've known him my whole life, he's been my best friend since we were kids. We live together, work together... and I've been crazy about him since we were teenagers. It sure as hell ain't just lust." 

This time the man placed two shots in front of him and Bucky didn't even hesitate before knocking them both back in quick succession. 

"Well if you ever need a shoulder to cry on..." The man winked at him. 

"And what if I do?" 

"Then my flat is only two blocks north of here." 

Bucky caught up his beer, draining the last of it before pushing away from the bar. "Let's go." 

\---

It was nearly dawn by the time Bucky got home, but there was still a glimmer of light shining from beneath Steve's door. Of course, he knew his friend may have simply fallen asleep with the lamp on, but a second later the door swung open to reveal his rumpled, but fully alert roommate. 

"You ok?" Steve asked as soon as he saw him. 

"Yeah, fine. I didn't mean to wake you." 

"I wasn't asleep." The other man assured him, running a hand through his hair and doing nothing to help his dishevelled appearance. Not that Bucky had any objections to Steve's bedhead. "Where were you?" 

"Out." He shrugged. 

"I text you, I was worried." 

Frowning, Bucky tugged his phone out of his pocket and poked the button, only to be greeted by a dark screen. "Guess it died." He bit his lip, feeling suddenly and painfully guilty. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you." 

"You never usually stay out this late." 

"I know, but I'm fine, I promise, I just lost track of time. I didn't mean to keep you up." 

"I wasn't sure you were coming back." Steve told him quietly and at that Bucky's stomach dropped. He was across the room before he was even aware of moving. 

"I'll always come back, Stevie." He promised, wrapping the other man up in a tight embrace. " _Always_ , I swear it." 

His friend hugged him back fiercely and Bucky could practically feel the tension draining out of him. 

It hadn't even occurred to him that that was what Steve might think. After all, it had been well over a year since he'd even thought about taking off, let alone done it, but in retrospect he should have known better. Back when he'd first moved in with Steve he'd been frequently overwhelmed and whenever it got too much he'd simply walked away, taking as much time as he needed to get his head straight before he came back. Steve had never said a word about it at the time, had just made sure to be there when he returned, welcoming him back with open arms each and every time. It wasn't until much later that he had realised how hard it had been for the other man, how much it had killed him to keep letting Bucky go, but he knew _now_ and he should have known better. 

"I'm sorry." He repeated finally, not knowing what else to say. 

"It's ok, you're home now." Steve buried his face in Bucky's neck as he held him even closer before stilling abruptly. "You smell like..." 

It was Bucky's turn to freeze, pulling away almost as quickly as he'd reached out. "Like what?" 

"You went to a bar?" 

"Yeah. I just wanted to get out for a bit." 

"Oh." There was something in Steve's expression that made Bucky's heart clench, but before he could analyse it any further, the other man was turning away, heading back the way he'd come. "Well I'm glad you're ok. I'm gonna get some sleep. Night, Buck." 

"Night, Stevie. And I really am sorry..." He started, but the door was already closed. 

"Fuck." He groaned, burying his face in his own shoulder in an effort to work out what his friend had scented on him. 

He could smell sweat and a hint of beer, even some cigarette smoke, though he wasn't sure where he'd picked that up from, but there was something else there too. A crisp fragrance that no one they knew would ever dream of wearing and he realised it could only have come from Jase, the kid he'd gone home with. Had Steve guessed that? Had he realised where Bucky had really been? That he hadn't been alone? Worse, had his friend recognised that the scent was aftershave and not perfume? 

All at once, every bit of the tension he'd been feeling before he'd hooked up with Jase was back tenfold and when he made it to his own room, all he did was change into sweats before heading straight back out the door. He paused only long enough to leave a note for Steve on the fridge in case he woke up to find Bucky gone again, before making his way out into the pre-dawn light. He started running as soon as he hit the sidewalk, not caring much where he was going, only hoping that if he kept going for long enough, he'd be able to find his way back to the vague sense of quiet he'd felt before he'd got home that morning. 

His run-in with Steve had brought everything he'd been trying to push away back to the forefront of his mind, only now he had even more to worry about. His friend wasn't an idiot and he was pretty certain that Steve had, at the very least, guessed that Bucky had not simply been drowning himself in alcohol till 5 o'clock in the morning. The other man must have realised that he hadn't been alone and what if he'd recognised Jase's aftershave too? What if it was enough for Steve to work out his secret? 

The dumbest part was that, logically at least, he knew his friend would never judge him for his sexuality. Hell, he probably wouldn't have cared if Bucky had come out to him back in the 30s, but no matter how much his brain tried to tell him that it was ok, he just couldn't shake the fear that if Steve found out, he could lose him forever. On top of which, thanks to his thoughtlessness in forgetting to let the other man know he was ok, he'd managed to make things even worse between them. How much more could their relationship take before Steve's patience wore too thin to withstand all the shit Bucky put him through? He didn't know, couldn't bear to even think about it, and so he ran until he couldn't think any more. 

\---

When he got home again, Steve was out, but he'd added a comment to Bucky's note reminding him to take care of himself and letting him know that there was food for him in the fridge. It didn't mean much, he knew, but it made him feel a little better anyway as he trudged exhaustedly to his room. He'd eat later, once he'd slept, but right now he just needed to pass out. As soon as the door closed behind him, Bucky surrendered to temptation, stopping only to tug his shoelaces loose before collapsing face first on top of the bed. It took the last of his reserves to kick off his sneakers and after that he couldn't even summon the energy to pull back the covers, let alone shower and change before he let sleep take him. 

When he woke several hours later it was to discover that Steve had apparently come in to check on him at some point. There was a soft blanket draped over him and a bottle of water on the nightstand and for a moment he felt so overwhelmed with love for his friend that he thought he might cry. It didn't even matter just then that the love Steve felt for him in return could never be what Bucky wanted it to be. He still had far more than he could ever hope to deserve in the form of his friendship and it was enough. It had to be. 

Pulling himself upright, he drank the water, then took a shower before heading into the living room in search of his friend. Sure enough, the other man was right where he usually was, sprawled across the sofa, music playing softly in the background, as he scratched away in his sketchbook. 

"Thanks for looking after me." He offered when Steve glanced up at the sound of his approach. 

"It was no trouble." His friend assured him with a tight smile. "I'm sorry I was so sharp with you last night." 

"I'm sorry I worried you so much." Bucky countered immediately, refusing to let the other man take the blame for reacting perfectly reasonably to his own horrible behaviour. 

"It's not your fault." Steve contradicted as usual. "It's not like you've given me any reason to think you're gonna leave, I just-" 

"You're allowed to worry." Bucky interrupted the guilt spiral before he could really get going. "And I know you _do_ , so I shoulda said something before I stayed out all night." 

"I'm not your keeper, you don't need to report in." Steve frowned. 

"I know that, which is why you deserve better than staying up half the night wondering what happened to me." He sighed, dropping down onto the sofa beside his friend. 

"Do you want to talk about... it?" Steve offered awkwardly, not looking like he wanted to talk about anything of the sort. 

"Nah." He dismissed the topic quickly having no more desire than Steve to talk about his potentially ill-advised one night stand, not least because he still wasn't remotely ready to tell the other man that he was gay. 

"Well I'm here if you need to talk." His friend promised earnestly. "About _anything_." 

"I know." He forced his lips up into a facsimile of a smile. "Thanks, Stevie." 

"Any time." 

\---

He didn't intend to go back to the bar again after that, but for some reason he couldn't seem to stay away. Still, he kept to himself over his next few visits, merely sitting and watching, taking an odd sort of comfort from seeing the way men could be together so openly now. Only he quickly realised that the dark brooding thing he did without meaning to, acted like something of a siren song, especially to the kids who would have made him feel old even if he wasn't technically nearly a hundred. Inevitably, it wasn't long before he found himself giving in to it, especially after days spent with Steve left him craving the physical comfort he couldn't get from his friend. 

A few months and countless men later, Bucky was once again seated at the end of the bar, nursing a beer and moping. He wasn't sure why tonight was any different to normal and yet, it was a real effort to twist his face into some semblance of a smile as the kid beside him leaned a little further into his space. Of course, it didn't help that he wasn't really Bucky's type; tall, but too skinny, dark haired and dark eyed... and not at all like Steve. Only he really wasn't all that fussy these days. He could go to bed with a Captain America lookalike and still not feel anything for him, so what did it matter _how_ they looked. 

"So what's your poison?" The kid asked him, gesturing to the bar. 

"Time was it was a good old American bourbon." A sharply familiar voice piped up from behind them. "Or is Russian vodka more your thing these days?" 

Needless to say, all it took was a single glance at Steve's Cap face and the kid who'd been trying it on with him promptly bolted. Not that Bucky took much notice of his departure. He never had had eyes for anyone else when Steve was around. 

"This is what you've been doing?" His friend demanded as he slid onto the stool the kid had just vacated. 

"Spare me the lecture, Rogers, I don't want to hear it." 

"I'm not going to lecture you." Steve frowned. "I'm not your ma and you're a grown man, you can fuck whoever you want." 

Bucky wasn't sure he'd ever heard his friend use that word before, or if he had it certainly hadn't been in this context and it was enough to bring him up short. Belatedly it occurred to him to wonder what _Steve_ was doing in a gay bar several neighbourhoods over from their apartment. 

"Why are you here?" 

"Same reason you are, I imagine." 

" _You_? Really?" He demanded incredulously. 

"Why not me?" 

"You're seriously telling me you're here looking to pick up some _guy_ to go home with? _You_?" 

Steve shifted awkwardly in his seat and he wouldn't quite meet Bucky's eye when he said "Maybe." 

"You do this a lot then?" He looked away, focusing on taking another swig of his drink rather than on Steve's face. 

"Not often. Or not for a while anyway, not since..." The other man trailed off and Bucky wondered if someone had broken his heart. It was a painful thought. 

"Since?" He pushed, forcing his grip to ease on his glass before it shattered. 

"Since I got you back." 

Bucky's head jerked round to stare at him, but Steve still wasn't looking at him, his attention fixed on the expanse of bar between his carefully planted hands. 

"But before that you used to come here?" 

Steve shrugged. "Not just here. There are a couple of places closer to home that are pretty decent too." 

"I thought you were straight." Bucky muttered, trying not to think too hard about exactly what the other man had just revealed. 

"I thought _you_ were." 

He shook his head. "I thought you were better than this." 

"Better than what?" 

"Fucking around." He stated bluntly, noting the way Steve flinched. 

"Clearly not." 

"So you did that then? Before?" 

Steve nodded once. 

"But not after?" 

"No." 

"So what, you're here checking up on me?" 

"Of course not." Steve shot him a wounded look. "I had no idea you'd be here, I thought you'd been going out with women." 

"So you just suddenly felt the urge after what? Two years of celibacy?" This time Bucky held his gaze. 

"Something like that." 

He didn't know what to say to that, realising, not for the first time, that at some point in the years he'd lived without Bucky, his friend had learned to hold his cards a little closer to his chest. 

"So?" Steve nodded towards the bar. "What can I tempt you with?" 

"Bet you say that to all the boys." He shot back, hoping that it was too loud for the other man to pick up on the bitter edge in his voice. 

"Only the good looking ones." His friend replied easily. "So, drink?" He pressed when all Bucky did was gape at him. 

"Sure, why not." He agreed before hastily adding, "Beer, not bourbon and certainly not fucking _vodka_." 

"Beer it is." Steve promised, a faintly apologetic smile on his lips as he turned to signal the bartender. 

Bucky watched the other man's profile as he ordered them a couple of pints, trying not to let himself think about anything more complicated than how fucking beautiful he looked, even in the dim light. He didn't want to deal with the curveball that was his friend's sexuality just yet and he sure as hell didn't want to deal with what it meant that Steve was here right now. Fuck, who was he kidding, that was something he _never_ wanted to deal with and watching how comfortable he was, chatting to the bartender while he poured their pints, wasn't doing anything to help with that. Forcing his eyes away again, they settled on what was left of his drink instead and he raised it to his mouth almost on autopilot, knocking it back just in time for it to be replaced with another. 

When Steve held up his own glass, Bucky dutifully clinked it in a silent toast, but beyond that he felt frozen in place. Staring a little, he watched as the other man took a deep swallow of his beer, before raising an eyebrow at him. Belatedly he raised his own drink to his lips, downing half his pint in one go, but when he lowered the glass, Steve was still there, just a little closer than normal, smiling at him as if he couldn't quite believe it any more than Bucky could. 

"So what's your type?" Steve asked eventually, breaking what had been a surprisingly comfortable silence, his eyes scanning the room on the far side of the bar. 

For half a second Bucky considered lying, or possibly just ignoring the question completely, but apparently tonight was all about big revelations, so why not go all in? 

"Big, blond and stupid. You?" He took a long swig of his drink rather than facing the other man's reaction to that little tidbit. 

"Dark, brooding." Steve replied casually. "Metal arm." 

Bucky choked on his beer, his eyes watering slightly as he turned to stare at his friend. " _What_?" 

"I thought you were straight." Steve repeated, his expression strained. "If I'd had any idea you weren't. That you might want-" 

"Shut up." Bucky cut him off, nearly dragging him from his barstool before he could think better of it and pressing their lips together. 

He'd imagined kissing Steve so many times, in so many different ways and places and decades, even, but none of it had quite prepared him for the reality of it. Steve kissed the same way he did everything, strong and sure and it shouldn't have been remotely surprising, but in all the time Bucky had wanted this, he'd never thought about the rest of it. About how his friend's arms would feel so familiar around him, imbued with that same deep affection that had filled every embrace they had ever shared. He'd never thought about how Steve's hands would feel buried in his hair or how his nose would bump against Bucky's when he tilted his head just so. He'd never realised how incredible it would feel to actually _kiss_ Steve and now he was doing it. After what felt like multiple lifetimes of wanting, Bucky Barnes was finally kissing Steve Rogers and it was everything he could ever have wanted. 

"So my place or yours?" Steve asked huskily when Bucky finally let him up for air, his beautiful blue eyes dancing with happiness as he waited for an answer. 

"Shut _up_." He groaned, pulling the other man back in for another kiss. 

"Come on, Buck. Come home with me." His friend murmured when they parted again, lips brushing against Bucky's with every word. 

"As opposed to what?" He challenged, trusting that Steve would play along rather than responding with something mood-killing like 'that guy over there'. 

"You need me to be clearer? Alright, Buck, come home to _our_ apartment." He punctuated the words with a kiss. "But to _my_ room." He kissed him again. "And, most importantly, _my bed_." 

"Well why didn't you say so?" He teased, but his friend was already out of patience, nearly knocking Bucky over in his urgency as he tugged him from his seat. 

He didn't let go after that and they half stumbled on their way to the door, Bucky still struggling to get his feet under him while Steve remained wrapped around him like a damned koala. As if that wasn't enough, the other man made him fucking _giggle_ when he abruptly leaned in to lick at his throat and that was _it_. 

"For fuck's sake." Bucky muttered under his breath, trying to get a handle on himself as he pulled carefully away from Steve's tongue, tugging on his hand instead and resuming their journey across the bar. 

The cool air outside went a long way to clearing his head, though he didn't release his grip on the other man's hand, clinging tightly as they stepped out into the street. He was already heading for the corner when someone behind them called his name, stopping him in his tracks. At his abrupt halt, Steve nearly walked into him, but seemed perfectly content to remain pressed against him, ducking his head and returning his lips to the curve of Bucky's throat. 

"That's him, isn't it?" 

Distracted from the feel of his friend's mouth, he glanced round at the vaguely familiar voice, catching sight of Jase, the kid he'd gone home with that first night he'd come here. 

"What?" Steve asked with a frown, removing his tongue from Bucky's skin, much to his consternation. 

"You're the guy." Jase pressed, pointing at Steve before shooting Bucky a knowing grin. 

"He's the guy." He confirmed, unable to bite back a stupidly big smile of his own. 

"What guy?" His friend demanded, gaze turning troubled as it flicked between them. 

"The guy I told him about a few months back." Bucky spoke quickly, before the other man could start jumping to conclusions. "The one I've been crazy about since I was fourteen." 

" _What_?" Steve repeated again, his jaw dropping open as he stared back at him. 

"You heard me." He reached for his friend's face, nudging at his chin until he closed his mouth with a snap. 

"We've got a whole lot to talk about, haven't we?" Steve laughed faintly, his head dropping forward to rest against Bucky's. 

"How long's it been for you?" He asked, against his better judgement. 

"With or without the ice?" 

"Whichever will make it sound more romantic." He teased, though he thrilled a little at the realisation that however long it had been for Steve, it had been long enough to necessitate the question. 

"Nearly twenty years, give or take." The other man shook his head a little, as if he were only just realising what a stupidly long time that actually was. "Eighty-five if you include the ones when I was unconscious because I didn't care so much about living if it meant doing it without you." 

"Fuck." Bucky swore, more than a little stunned, but then he _had_ asked for romance, hadn't he? 

"Can we?" Steve asked innocently. 

"I..." 

"If you don't take him home soon." Jase interrupted. "You're going to have a riot on your hands." 

"What the kid said." Steve smirked at him, fucking _smirked_. 

"Glad to be of service, Cap." They both turned at that and Jase shrugged. "Come on, you've been a fuckin' gay icon ever since you slammed that reporter for all her homophobic shit. Plus half the community are rooting for _that_ ship to come home." He gestured between the two of them. 

"Ship?" Steve questioned, looking as confused as Bucky felt. 

"Captain America and Bucky Barnes? That's the relationship of _dreams_ , right there." "I didn't tell you who I was." He interrupted, sure he'd only introduced himself as James. 

"You've got a metal fuckin' arm." Jase pointed out reasonably. "And the way you talked about him?" He jerked his thumb at Steve, but before Bucky could panic about quite how much he'd apparently let slip, his bestest pal piped up again. 

"People think we should be together?" Steve looked a little dazed by the whole conversation, not that Bucky could blame him. 

"Are you kidding? Talk about a romance across the ages! Plus you're both hot as fuck and if you didn't know people were getting off on _that_ , you clearly don't spend enough time on pornhub." Jase laughed suddenly at what he could only assume was their matching expressions of consternation. "It wasn't hard to put two and two together, is all I'm saying. Which, incidentally, is exactly what _you_ two should be doing right fuckin' now." 

"Eighty-five _years_?" Someone else muttered and that was it for Bucky. 

"Come on, Stevie." He caught his friend's hand in his own again and started tugging him away from the gathered onlookers. "Take me home." 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> In case you were wondering, Steve didn't know it was aftershave he smelled on Bucky that first time, but he knew it was _someone else_ and that's what ultimately led to him going out himself. A few months of listening to the love of his life rolling home in the early hours, after what could only be a string of one night stands, was bound to break him eventually and there really _is_ only so much a lonely heart can take.


End file.
